I looked out the middle bay door.  The driver had forgot to close it and the cold wind came pouring into the warehouse.  I looked out over the fresh snow that fell the night before.  Maybe it was the time of year, maybe it was the sight of snow, but I couldn’t help thinkning of her.  It could’ve been at any time.  I stood at the same door several months ago and a similar thought passed through me.  

Today I thought about a New Year ’s from the past.  Fresh snow covered the ground and the wind blew hard on the last day of the year. We were driving  up the coast for a special New Year’s Eve celebration.  For one night, we were  far away from work, bills and other obligations.  That night was about us, about a celebration of something special.

The room had a view of the water and a king-sized bed.  The shower had a sunflower head  that delivered the hot water in a gentle cascade.  It was all we needed.

She took the bathroom first.  She probably assumed I’d shave in the shower.  So I waited.  We talked though the bathroom door, cracked open so slightly.  I didn’t see her but I never tried to sneak a peak either. It seemed like forever before she was finished.  Why do they always take so long?  When she emerged from the bathroom, it was immediately apparent why it took so long.

She was breathtaking.  Her auburn hair was gently swirled and piled on top of her head.  A simple necklace encircled her throat, laying to rest on her alabaster skin.  The dress was gorgeous, silk and taffetta with a plunging neckline that immediately caught my eye.  She had delicious curves and the dress just made them all look so good.   As I gazed in awe while she moved across the room,  a steady stream of naughty thoughts passing through my brain.  When she asked  me what I thought, the best I could manage was a breathless “Wow!”

Seeing her there, a ravishing beauty with eyes only for me, reminded me that I was -  that we were blessed.     I was smitten.  Despite declaring my love for her on Christmas Day,  I fell in love with her all over again at that moment.  I  would  fall in love with her over and over again over time.  It didn’t matter where we were.   All she had to do was walk into view and she took my breath away.  My feelings for her were different. They were stronger than I had ever experienced before.  This  was more than a schoolboy crush or simple infatuation.  I felt complete.  She completed me.

I quickly showered, shaved and got dressed.  She had given me a beautiful silk tie for Christmas and I was anxious to wear it.  I never had much occasion to get dressed up.  But when I did, I looked good.   A crisp white shirt, blue blazer, banker gray slacks and black shoes gave me an aire or confidence I often felt when she and I  were together.  We left the room and headed downstairs to join the party that had already started in one of the huge hotel function rooms.

The events of the night didn’t matter.  The food was delicious.  The band was good enough to keep people on the dance floor.  But my gaze never left her.  A herd of elephants could’ve stampeded across the dancefloor and I wouldn’t have noticed.   Always the gentleman,  I guided her through the crowded room with his hand gently paced in the small of her back.  All through the night, her hand  never left mine.  If it did, it was to lightly touch my arm.  Our eyes were locked onto each other on the dancefloor.  Slowly swaying, we were the only ones there, despite being surrounded by other couples.

We barely made it to midnight.  The only thing that kept us at the party were the amazing chocolate desserts.  As soon as the “ball” dropped and the toasts exchanged, we made our way back upstairs.  Any thought of neatly hanging up clothes was abandoned.   Any notion of  taking things slow went out the window.  We were  fueled with an unbridled passion for each other.  This wasn’t merely raw lust.  It was like watching a starving man at a buffet. 

We rode the moment with its ebb and flow of emotion.  Moving from slow and gentle one moment to empassioned and frenzied.  More was never enough.  Our bodies were as one, hands and tongues together working like an orchestra, members playing with and off each other’s performance.  I have never before given myself to a woman in that way, loving so completely and unconditionally.

As I stood in the open door of the loading dock, all these memories rushed back to me like the cold air that brushed my face.  It was a brisk reminder that these moments can come back without notice.  Let them wash over you.  Allow yourself to feel the emotion and then let it pass.  Then, continue to move forward.

2009 has been quite a ride.  It’s been challenging, stressful, enlightening, glorious, somewhat spectacular, and never boring.

It got a bit manic for awhile, somewhat depressing at times, but never dull.

I did a great deal of soul searching.  I plumbed the depths of my inner being, searching for answers to questions better answered a long time ago.

I loved and lost.

I remained persistant and the efforts payed off on Christmas Eve.  I have never had a better relationship with my kids than I do right now.

Somehow, I made it through.  I was able to make it to the other side and discovering that I am a better man for it.  I am also a better dad, a better friend, and a better brother.  All are works in progress, but moving in the right direction.  I thank The Shrink for helping me discover who I am becoming.

I have also become a better writer.  It’s something I never imagined.  All I’ve done is sit down at this keyboard on a semi-regular basis, and lay my life out for anyone to read.  From that I’ve been able to develop a style, interject a bit of my own personality, and create something of which I am very proud.

This Middle-Aged Head thanks you all from the bottom of my heart.

A few acknowledgements:

To my children:  From you I found hope that good things will come if you stick with it.  All I want in life I find in you.  I am nothing without you.

To My Ex- :  Thank you for being my friend. 

To the Sirens of Iowa:  Thank you for your honesty.  I begin to worry if I don’t see your towns on my blogsphere.  You have read my words and have responded with encouragement.  I am grateful beyond words.

To The Squire (and his wife):  Thanks is only a mere shadow of what I owe you.  From the beginning, you both have given me encouragement and support.  I am glad you read my stuff.  I am glad you are my friends.

To My Love:  You have given me one of the most amazing years of my life.  Granted, the path we now travel is not the one we both imagined or hoped for.  But we are here.  I know you have moved on, but you will always be in my heart.

To The Housemate:  Thank you for your morbid sense of curiosity.  I’m not sure if you’re looking for a trainwreck, but there’s none to be found here.  I have always valued your opinion and enjoyed talking music with you.  I hope we can remain friends and stay in contact.

And, finally, to the many readers who drop in from time to time.  I have noticed that Eden Prairie and New Prague MN, Springfield, MA; San Antonio, TX; Los Angeles, CA; and the many international visitors I’ve received over the last six months, continue to stop in and catch up.  I appreciate that you’ve stopped in and returned.  Please feel free to send a message along.  I hope my journey somewhat mirrors your own and that I have helped you along the way.

I have no resolutions.  They are for cowards, who can see what needs to be changed but are afraid of what they might become if they change.  I plan to join a gym.   It will give me something to do through the winter.  I don’t have plans to make drastic changes in my life.  I am still looking for Me.  Discovering who I am will take up most of my time, but I look forward to what I uncover.  I plan to remain single.  I am not ready to give my heart to someone.  There will be times that I long for intimacy, the gentle touch of a hand and a soft, lingering kiss.  If it happens, it happens.  I won’t go looking for it.

My wish for you in 2010:  Be gentle with yourself and remain hopeful.  Revel in the small wonders of life.  Love without boundaries.  Give without hesitation.

I lift my glass to you all.  Happy New Year, and may it be a slight bit better than the last.

I am so glad Christmas is over.  Not the holiday but all the ramped-up, amped-up, high stress activity before the holiday.

I had the best Christmas Day ever.

My trip to Massachusetts to see my sister was a success.  My mother had phoned me on Christmas morning.  I was taking a quick nap before hitting the road and she woke me up.  I told her my plan and asked her to keep a secret.  She did a good job.

My trip down was fun.  I like driving long distances, especially alone.  It gives me control of the radio and when to make pit stops.  The radio piece is the most important.  I hit the “scan” button and took my chances.  I heard lots of Christmas music, obviously, and some of them were tunes I hadn’t heard much over the past couple of weeks.  I sang at the top of my lungs, joyful and excited, full of anticipation of seeing my family.

Thankfully, the Jetta made it down and back with no problems.

When my sister and I spoke on the phone last week, she told me that she had taken a fall and landed on her hip.  This was the same hip she had surgically repaired.  The x-rays were negative, but the doctor recommended that she use a crutch to get around.  Arriving at her house, I gathered my things and bolted up the stairs, hoping no one would notice.  Just my luck that everyone was gathered around the dining room table, involved in a cutthroat boardgame called Last Word.  My father happened to glance out the window and announced my arrival.  I barely touched the doorknob when the door opened, and I discovered my mother standing there, with my sister not far behind. 

It was the best surprise ever.  To be able to see the smiling faces of my family, with whom I hadn’t spent a Christmas in 5 years, was the best present I received this year.  

Christmas Eve was right up there, though.

I did have an opportunity to have some time with my sister.  We went shopping.  Hey, $15 jeans at Old Navy is an opportunity you can’t pass up.  I needed a new pair, something with style, not like “the Dad jeans” I’ve been told I wear.  I found a pair that complimented my assets.  I then followed my sister to the Yankee Candle outlet, for their year-end sale.  Their stuff is expensive, so to be able to buy anything for $15 was a bargain.

The shopping was secondary, really.  I was glad to spend time with my sister.

There’s much to be said for working two jobs.  A little extra cash in your pocket is always a good thing.  I’m not spending mindless evenings at home watching CSI.  But I have no time for myself.  As I write this, I have 2 1/2 hours before my next shift.  The pattern of my life lately seems to be:  up at 4:30 at work for 5:30; out at 2pm, then rush home to change and maybe grab some nosh before heading to the call center.  I’m usually home before 10 and asleep before 11.  But there’s a twist to this week.  I have 5 shifts with Midnight for an out time.

Are you kidding?  That leaves me with less than 4 hours sleep.  A PSP3 is not worth it.

I seem to be living on Hot Pockets and sandwiches.  I’ll throw in a piece of fruit and some carrots to munch on, but there is a nutritional pattern going on here.  I just don’t want to cook.

This is the sixth Christmas I’ve worked for LL Bean. I like working the phones. I get to use my radio voice that’s been long gathering cobwebs.  It’s a deep baritone.  I use that voice so that I don’t speak too loudly.  That is not well received in a call center.   I like interacting with the callers.  I like to silently make fun of the uptight New Yorkers, who come off sounding rushed and frantic.  They talk so fast.  I had a caller from New Jersey yesterday, works for Citi Group.  He wanted to return a snow tube he’d ordered two days prior, just so he could get the sale price, which was only good for the weekend.  His savings totaled $15 bucks, but it wasn’t worth it.  I checked his order history and he had spent beaucoup bucks over the past year.  Why quibble over $15?

I love talking with the Southerners. They always sound so proper and dignified.  Sometimes I’ll make reference to a college football or basketball team, and a reserved demeanor turns quite jovial.  And I love listening to the accent.  The folks from the west coast have a sterotypical laid-back tone.  Every once and awhile I’ll get a call from someone who sounds as if they are calling from a cave.  You can hear the TV on in the background, and ithe volume always seems louder because the room sounds empty, and the audio echoes in the room.  I often wonder if these callers live alone with cats.  I wonder if their living rooms are bare with minimal furniture.  I wonder if they are happy to have someone to talk with, if they are alone all day.

There are some that talk my ear off.  They get on the phone and shop while they talk with me.  I’ve had calls like that that last 45 minutes or more.  Those are the calls that have you drumming your fingers on the table, praying for the call to end.  The one positive side to those calls is they eat up your day and help make it go by faster.

There are days when my life feels like this, when memories fill your head and you can’t get past them.  As much as I try to believe that you can’t change the past, the difficulty lies in if/how you allow the past to affect the present.  Even the most clear-thinking person allows themselves to drift back and wonder “what if..”.

You’ve been reading some old letters

You smile and think how much you’ve changed

All the money in the world

Couldn’t bring back those days.

And all your friends and family think that you’re lucky.

 But the side of you they’ll never see

Is when you’re left alone with the memories

That hold your life together like glue

–  The The “This is the Day”

Uh, oh…here comes another rant.  Don’t worry, this one is justified.

I love Christmas music, especially the sacred music that doesn’t get played to death.  Some people prefer Handel’s Messiah, others like the Bach Christmas Oratorio.  I prefer carols.  Especially the ones that have yuletide lore woven into the lyrics.  But I have a soft spot in my heart for Johnny Mathis, Nat “KIng” Cole and “A Charlie Brown Christmas”. 

Some of the best Christmas traditions come, not from the Christians, but the Pagans or Druids. You have to love the Pagans.  They are a randy bunch.  Some of the yule traditions from Britain, such as mistletoe and the yule log, often lose their meaning in the modern context.  But you also have to love those Christians.  Rather than alienate, they incorporated many of those Yuletide traditions in the Christmas season.  So, we get the Christmas tree from the Germans, and Saint Nick/Kris Kringle/Santa Claus/Father Christmas fromthe rest of Europe. 

A wonderful part of the seasson is the Winter Solstice.  Again, those nutty Pagans, tired of the darkness, longed for the warmth and light of the Sun.  So they head for the highest hills and light bonfires to help the Sun return. My friend, The Squire, has a great way to celebrate the winter solstice.  He has a bonfire on the beach. 

How very pagan of him.  It is a rocking affair that includes fireworks.

Okay, they’re sparklers, but it’s the same idea.  Anything to help bring back the sun is good.

I like the solstice because it adds a little something to the season.  Too bad it couldn’t be in late January, when there is NOTHING going on.  At least there are folks who leave their lights up through the winter.  Seeing those lights helps take the dull edge off winter.  Of course, the rednecks keep their lights up all year.  They’re always dull so they need something to make them look bright.

I digress….back to the theme.

I know I’m not the only person who thinks this way, but Christmas has gotten way out of control, and further away from the true meaning of the day. Now, especially, with the seasonal music.  I would like to take the person, who had the brilliant idea to allow radio stations to, not only play 24/7 Christmas music, but also to begin playing it two weeks BEFORE Thanksgiving, tie them up and subject them to their own tape loop of continuous Christmas music.  Whatever happened to the notion of leave ‘em wanting more?  I can’t stand wall-to-wall Chirstmas music because you can only do “White Christmas”, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” or “Do You Hear What I Hear” so many ways.

C’mon, folks.  It’s like Wally World, displaying Christmas decorations around Halloween.  Sometimes, it’s just too much.  If you HAVE to have Christmas music all day AND all night, if you can’t live without 15 different versions of each of the Christmas favorites, then here’s a suggestion.  Find yourself a CD player that holds 500 CDs, load it up with Christmas music, press “random”, then “play”,  and spin yourself into a Yuletide orgasmic stupor.

If you are under the age of 25, you’ve probably heard older adults remember “the good old days”, when it wasn’t about making the most money in the shortes amount of time.  The “good old days”, when Santa first appeared the weekend AFTER Thanksgiving at the local shopping center.  Not a mall, a shopping center.  He could be found  in a department store or a little cabin in the parking lot.  Some folks have different experiences, but he always showed up the first weekend AFTER Thanksgiving.

  Yes, I know he’s in the Macy’s parade, and that’s on Thanksgiving.  A minor detail.  He first touches down in New York City.  It’s where he starts his five week Christmas tour.   Duhhhh. 

In the “old days”, you never saw a Christmas decoration in public BEFORE Thanksgiving.  Not in stores, not on the streets, not in people’s homes.  You’d see the city workers in the bucket truck, hanging lights on a huge fir tree or hanging decorations off the light poles.  My family put our decorations out when we got our Christmas tree.  We always got our tree two weeks BEFORE Christmas, and it came down a couple days after New Year’s.

In the “old days”, Santa was on TV.  I grew up in Bangor, and Santa had a daily half-hour locally-produced TV program.  The program was on just before the news at 6 PM, and it featured local choral groups, Letters to Santa, and a visit to the North Pole.  He could see us on the other side of the screen.  It was magic, I swear to God.  He would also read off the first names of the good boys and girls.  Everyone waited for this part because it was at the end of the show. If he said your name, you were a celebrity at school the next day.

Here’s a message to the Powers That Be who make these decisions regarding Christmas:  let us have our holiday back.  If they won’t give it up, then we need to take it back.

I’d like to see real spruce and fir trees, from local tree farms, with lights homemade decorations.  I’d like us to buy gifts from local merchants, not big box stores.  I’d like folks to sing “Happy Birthday” on Christmas morning.  It is a birthday celebration, after all.

In these times we are all trying to figure out how to make our dollars stretch.  We are also bombarded with TV and print ads, declaring what we SHOULD choose for our loved ones.

They never met my loved ones.  How do they know what they want?

Make  your own decorations.  Light a candle.  Celebrate Advent, it that’s your thing. 

Take back the season. Let’s get Christmas back to the heart and out of the mall.   Make it about love and joy.

I have been a bad boy.

After posting yesterday, I checked my email and discovered a response from My Love.  I got the full lowdown on her reasons behind the breakup.  We are both at fault, but she is blaming herself.

Yes, one of the issues was money and we both took ownership of that.  But she was frustrated about where I was in my life.  She has been concerned that I am wasting my natural talents.  She was hoping that I could move myself along and go forward in my life.  She was hoping that I could get myself out of the rut I was in, but that wasn’t possible.  She decided that we break off our relationship rather than become a nag.

Since my divorce, I have been subconsciously ignoring my adult responsiblities and move forward.  I have been afraid to do that because I am afraid of success.  I use all sorts of excuses:  I don’t know what I want, this doesn’t intrest me, I don’t have the money to go back to school.  I can easily retort with reasons why I should make life changes.  I never have enough money to do what I want, or to cover emergencies.  I constantly worry about if there’s enough or if I have to rob Peter to pay Paul.  I just need to take a leap of faith and start exploring possiblities.

But it bothers me that I was so cold towards My Love.  I have just as much to do with all this as she does.  I need to take responsiblity for my stuff.

We exchanged emails last night and have it sorted out.  But it makes me wonder where we would be if it weren’t for money issues or career goals.  We agreed that we wanted to exchange emails now and again.  She still is an important part of my life.

Let’s see where the future will take us.

I’m back.  This time, I am walking a bit humbler, but a little bit jaded and stunned.  I made a promise to My Love that I would not write about her, and I will keep it.

But I return with a boatload of questions about myself.  Some are ones that I cannot answer.  That’s why I am going into therapy.  The appointment has been made  – November 30.  As much as this forum has allowed me to do similar work as therapy, I need the feedback and support that you cannot give me.

I will continue to write, but nothing similar to my posts on My Love.  At the moment, I wonder how my life will play out over the next year.  People keep telling me that it will get better.  I heard the same things after my divorce, but I had My Love as a sounding board.  That’s why I need therapy; I need the feedback.

SO……..

I’ll be back from time to time.  Nothing of the regularity for the last four months, but you never know.  I might get on a streak and then you’ll get sick of me.

If you are new to this blog, I invite you to view the archive for past posts.  It’s been a wild summer and fall, a regular rollercoaster ride.

Here’s where it all goes down hill.

I have a theory about the post-Halloween weather in the Northeast.  Here on the coast, once the candy has been gobbled up and the costumes put away, the weather seems to take a turn for the worst.

 Rapidly.

My Daughter’s brithday falls in early November.  Ever since she was old enough to have birthday parties, we’ve had Indian Summer-like weather around her birthday, so her parties were always held outdoors.  I never thought leaf diving was a traditional party game, but we turned it into one.

  But after that glorious splash of warmth, the temperature takes a dive and the chill in the air is more than just chilly.  It’s cold, and it’s worse if it rains.  Autumn rain is the worst because it is so cold.  The sole purpose of an autumn rain is to bring down the remaining leaves on the trees.

This has been a good year for wanderlust.  I haven’t acted on the urges yet and I know I should.  Considering all the emotional maelstrom I’ve put myself through, you think I would get away more often.  That would be a correct assumption.  Lately, though, I’ve been questioning this wanderlust.

When does wanderlust and the desire for a change of scenery get misinterpreted for avoiding reality?

There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to get outta Dodge, but I seem to find excuses not to.  Is it necessary for my wellbeing to hit the road every so often?  Hell, yeah!  So…. WHY NOT?  Good question, gentle reader.  Why do I find reasons NOT to do anything instead of creating solutions to help me achieve my goal? 

That’s two questions- both of them valid and complimentary. 

I say shit or get off the pot.  Just go.  Create possibilities instead of building barriers.

Here are some places I’ve thought about:

1.  My sister’s in Massachusetts.  She and her husband are empty nesters, sort of.  My nephew is at the Massachusetts Police Academy.  My youngest neice is at school in Fitchburg.  Her older sister has two years of college under her belt but, for reasons not yet explained, she opted for coming home and working in her father’s small-town law practice.  I haven’t seen for since the end of May, just before My Love and I parted ways.

2.  My parent’s house…again.  No.  Dad and I had an argument about my financial situation.  He is afraid I’m going to fall through the cracks.  For years he’s been pushing the real estate game on me, put I’m not playing.  Things need to cool down before I drop in again.

3.  No place in particular.  It’s always a good third option.  I’ve thought about driving to Boston, Quebec City,  and New York City.  I’ve thought about pulling out the ol’ Rand McNally, close my eyes and drop the finger at random.  Where the finger goes, the rest of me shall follow.

Would somebody give a good shove to get me started?

I am feeling MUCH better today.  I could’ve slept a few hours more than I did, but there’s this thing called work.  You have to do it to earn money.  You then take that money and buy things and pay bills, not necessarily in that order.  Therefore, the time change tonight is a welcome thing.  We all dread spring and the time change forward.  Yeah, I love the sunshine but I could really use that hour of sleep.

My Daughter and I never made it to the hockey game and we didn’t get to carve pumpkins.  She got a call from her work.  Three guys called out and there was a huge restock coming in, and would she come in to work.  She really wanted to spend time with me, so she worked out a compromise.  We had enough time to put a stirfry together and just hang out in the kitchen.  As for the hockey tickets, I gave them to My Son and his girlfriend.

I have finished CS training for L.L. Bean and will start shift work tonight.  I’ll have enough time to rush home from the warehouse, change and clean up, and off to work.  This is how it will be for the next 8-10 weeks.  Good thing it’s fun work or I would dread it.

Exciting, huh?

whaddayah want for nothing?    Rrrrrrrrrrrubber biscuits? 

 Bow bow, oooooh ooh.